“Go frack yourself,” she said.
Helmich smiled. “Well said. I suppose you are confident that I am in too much of a hurry to arrange things so that I can coerce you to give an honest answer.”
Ashley’s defiant look wavered a little.
“I suppose you’re right,” Helmich said. “All of that nonsense is so tedious and messy. Let the record show that you simply have no opinion on the matter.” He then turned to Bobby. “Your turn, young man.”
Ashley spoke up before Bobby could open his mouth. “You act like you don’t care what happens if things don’t go the way you want them to. But when it comes to not caring, the Lamotelokhai kicks your ass. That’s something you people just don’t get. You should probably listen to those of us who know.”
Helmich gazed at her. “I am listening. And so are my superiors.”
“Good,” she said. “All of you go frack yourselves.”
Helmich turned to Bobby.
Bobby considered backing up Ashley by repeating her words. But he didn’t want to pass up a chance to say something that might make a difference.
“The Lamotelokhai is smarter than us. Smarter than all of us, even you. What you’re trying to do proves it. You asked what role it should play. I think it should be hidden away somewhere so people like you can’t find it, and it should help us the way it thinks is best for us. Like it has been doing.” Bobby looked at the cameras and then at Helmich. “I think I understand what you’re trying to do now. Have you seen the movie, 28 Days Later? It’s a zombie movie.”
Helmich smiled but still managed to look skeptical. “Now you’re talking my language.”
“Well, at the beginning these people break into a research lab to let some chimpanzees out of their cages. They think they’re doing something good. They think people shouldn’t keep animals in cages. But they don’t know that the chimps have a disease called rage. Twenty-eight days after that, the main character wakes up from a coma, and he finds out almost everyone is either dead or has the disease.” Bobby paused for a moment to make sure Helmich was listening. “I think you’re the people freeing the chimps.”
Helmich puckered his lips and adjusted his red glasses. “With one important difference. The animal rights activists in the film had no coherent plan. We, on the other hand, not only have a plan, but our plan is proving to be successful.” He broke into a smile. “But extra points for effort, Bobby! Now, I have one more question for you folks. With the understanding that we intend to continue our course of action, is there anything you can tell us that might reduce the risks that you are so concerned about?”
“If you’ve split it up, put it back together,” Peter said.
“I’m afraid our entire hypothesis is based upon segmenting it,” Helmich replied.
Bobby realized this might be his last chance to say something. “Be careful what you ask it to do. It doesn’t think like you do.”
“Good advice,” Helmich said. He waited for a moment. When no one else spoke up, he looked at his watch again. “Very well. This discussion is now concluded. It is time for us to discover how the Lamotelokhai functions. Bobby, I would like you to be a part of that.”
“I want to be there, too,” Ashley said. “I want to see what’s happening, and I haven’t been out of this bed except to go to the bathroom.”
Helmich shook his head. “Not possible, unless you would like us to install implants in your skull, as we have done with Bobby.”
Ashley just shook her head slightly and looked up at the ceiling.
Helmich walked over and rapped on the door. It opened, and several doctors came in. Helmich began to leave but then turned to them. “How about a double feature tonight? I will arrange for a viewing of Papillon and All The Marbles. Under the circumstances, however, and with all due respect to Bobby, we should pass on 28 Days Later.”
∞
Bobby and Helmich took the elevator down to the room in the center of the array. The room was now completely filled with computer stations and racks of equipment. At least ten doctors or scientists worked at the computers or bustled around the machinery. The ten chambers were still at their farthest positions, which Bobby now knew to be 162 meters out. The chambers formed a distant circle of bright rectangles in the otherwise darkened space beyond the well-lit center room.
Helmich held a hand out toward a wheelchair parked next to the elevator. Bobby’s protective helmet was in the wheelchair’s seat.
“I’m sure you understand why we must activate your implants,” Helmich said. “You may choose the helmet or the chair. Personally, I would choose both.”
Bobby hated the helmet, so he moved it to the floor and sat in the wheelchair. Helmich nodded to one of the doctors, the same man who had been in control of Bobby’s implants the day before. The now-familiar pulse in the back of Bobby’s skull signaled that the implants were turned on. Helmich pushed the wheelchair to a position where Bobby could see out into the vast darkened space surrounding them, then he grabbed a rolling desk chair and sat beside Bobby.
“I wanted you to be here, Bobby, because it’s possible you will have some valuable insight that we haven’t considered. Please observe our procedures carefully. If you have a suggestion, raise your hand. Depending on the circumstances, we will allow you to explain. Is that clear?”
Bobby nodded, although he couldn’t imagine these people would listen to any suggestions he might have.
“Very well,” Helmich said. He then spoke to the entire room. “In your places, please. Let’s waste no more valuable time. Systems reports, beginning with Bobby’s hardware and software.”
“Neural implants are activated and functioning normally,” said the doctor who had turned on Bobby’s implants.
A woman at the next computer station said, “Microclimate probes are functioning, and they indicate nominal variation during the last thirteen hours.”
A man at the next station said, “All physical parameter probes functioning, with no variations detected.”
The next guy said, “All biological parameter probes functioning. Nothing detected here, sir.”
“Mechanical functions ready to roll, sir.”
“Structural integrity probes are functional and indicate no changes.”
“Chamber security locks and all alarms appear to be functional.”
“Lighting and microclimate variables are optimal, unless you are uncomfortable, sir.”
“All audio and video feeds are functioning properly.”
This brought the reports full circle to the man at the station on Helmich’s left. “Systems check on the four forty-four protocol indicates all systems go.”
Helmich leaned in closer to Bobby. “I’m responsible for naming the 4:44 protocol. It’s a reference to a film depicting the last day on Earth, which was to be destroyed at 4:44 AM. The protocol is a self-destruct safety measure. If things don’t go as planned, we can activate it, destroying everything within the facility.” He raised his brows and pulled back from Bobby’s face a bit. “And you thought we were ill-prepared, didn’t you?”
Bobby suddenly realized he was never going to leave this place. He was watching them start an experiment that would probably lead to his death within a few minutes. He raised his hand, resulting in a sharp pulse behind his ears. Helmich nodded for him to speak.
“I don’t think this is going to end well. Can you let my friends and I go before you do whatever you’re planning to do?”
Helmich smiled. “Forever resourceful, aren’t you? But the fact of the matter is that we may need your help.” He nodded again to the guy next to him, and the implants came back on.
Helmich stood up next to Bobby and addressed the entire room. “Bring them in slowly. Alert me immediately to any change in any parameter, no matter how seemingly insignificant.”
The machinery beneath the floor kicked on.
“Initiating convergence,” a man said. “Point five meters per second.”
In the distance the re
ctangles of light moved slightly.
“Alert me to any variation,” Helmich repeated.
The man spoke again. “One-hundred forty-meter radius, eighty-eight meters between chambers.”
Bobby sensed that everyone around him was nervous. Their eyes flitted a little too rapidly between their computer monitors and the approaching chambers. The machinery continued humming.
“One-hundred ten-meter radius, seventy meters between chambers.”
“Stop,” Helmich said.
The machinery beneath them fell silent, and the chambers stopped moving.
“Anything to report?” Helmich said. “Anything at all?”
The room was silent.
“Proceed.”
The machinery started again.
“Ninety-meter radius, fifty-six meters between chambers.”
The seconds passed like the wrenching of a spear in Bobby’s flesh.
“Sir, I have something!”
“Stop,” Helmich said.
The machinery stopped.
“I first saw it at eighty-five-meter radius, fifty-three meters between chambers,” the man said. “A spike in EEG activity, common to all ten chambers.”
“All ten chambers? Not just chamber one?”
“Common to all ten, sir.”
Another man said, “At the same distance I detected slight mechanical movement. Not profound but certainly measurable.”
A woman said, “Sir, at the same distance our unipolar grid indicates rather unusual activity with the high-density surface EMG.”
“Hello, Bobby.”
Bobby stiffened. He clamped his lips shut to avoid mouthing his words. “Lamotelokhai! Are you okay?”
“The proximity of my parts now allows me to function cognitively.”
Helmich spoke to the doctors. “Expand the chambers to one-hundred meters. Tell me what you observe.”
The machinery kicked on again.
The voice spoke in Bobby’s head. “The distance between my parts is increasing, and soon I will not—”
The voice fell silent.
“That’s the distance, sir. The activity has stopped.”
“Same result here,” the woman said.
“And here,” another man said. “It looks like the critical point is eighty-seven meters radius, fifty-four meters between chambers.”
“Lamotelokhai? Are you there?” Bobby tried to keep his face expressionless and still.
Helmich said, “Bring them back in to eighty meters.”
The machinery hummed, and the chambers moved.
Several doctors reported that they were seeing something important again.
“Hello, Bobby. It appears that someone is attempting to understand the proximity needed for my parts to function collectively.”
Bobby closed his eyes to concentrate on forming words. “Yes, I think that’s what they’re trying to do. They’ve got all kinds of probes and things, and they’re trying to measure what’s going on with your parts.”
“Sir?”
Bobby opened his eyes. It was the doctor next to him, the one who operated the implants in his head. The guy was looking right at Bobby.
“What is it?” Helmich asked.
The man cleared his throat. “I wasn’t sure at first, but it happened similarly both times. At the precise moment the others have reported physical and biological activity, the kid’s brain has shown a significant increase in neural oscillations.” The man hesitated. “It can’t be a coincidence, sir.”
The voice in Bobby’s head said, “You are afraid. Why?”
Bobby didn’t dare try to answer.
Helmich was gazing at him and frowning. He stepped over and kneeled down in front of the wheelchair, looking directly into Bobby’s eyes as if he were searching for something.
“Bobby, are you talking to the Lamotelokhai?”
Ten
Quentin listened to a symphony of birdcalls as he relieved himself beyond sight of the camp. He recognized several doves and the screech of a cockatoo, but the other calls were unknown to him. The diversity of birds here was staggering. He looked up at the cloud of flies hovering above him. One of the benefits of the Lamotelokhai’s particles was they somehow made his body invisible to biting insects. This benefit and numerous others still persisted eight months after his last contact with it.
He completed his task and returned to the campsite. Lindsey had finished stuffing the sleeping pads into one of the packs and was laying out the fruits and sago cakes from the Navera villagers. Quentin went to the stump where he had left the satellite phone the night before. It was the spot he had determined would have the best chance of receiving a signal in case Ardell Gray tried to call with news about Bobby and Ashley. They had to leave the phone turned off to conserve the battery, but it could be remotely turned on if the caller entered a specific PIN. He plucked the phone from the stump and powered it on. The phone refreshed its search for satellites and then showed a marginal signal, but there were no messages. He switched it back off, trying to convince himself that no news was actually good news.
Quentin, Samuel, and Sinanie sat down on the ground next to Lindsey and began eating. They would need the fuel for a long day of hiking, so they focused on chewing rather than talking.
Before long, the tree kangaroo, which Quentin hadn’t seen since the previous evening, scampered out of the forest and stopped in the middle of their group. It began moving its forepaws, using its peculiar sign language.
Samuel said, “The mbolop has informed us that fresh water is available a reasonable distance from our camp. And apparently there is a breadnut tree near the water. The creature means to assist us, unaware perhaps that you have brought food and water with you.”
Lindsey fished two water bottles from her pack, one half full and the other empty. “Perhaps we should fill these while we have the opportunity.”
Sinanie got up and took the bottles from her. He stared at them curiously.
Lindsey took one back and screwed the lid off. “This is how it works,” she said. She screwed it back on.
Sinanie frowned at the bottle, but then he took it from her and headed into the forest.
The tree kangaroo hopped closer to Lindsey and leaned forward, sniffing the air near her face.
“I think it likes you,” Quentin said.
She gazed at it. “So this is one of the new mbolop from the colony you told us about?”
“Indeed,” Samuel said. “The mbolop you call Mbaiso was quite willing to assign one of the creatures in the colony to assist on this journey.”
Lindsey slowly extended a hand, palm down, and tried petting its head. The mbolop moved to one side to avoid her hand, but it didn’t retreat. It then stepped even closer and pushed its snout within a foot of her nose. Lindsey’s eyes grew wider, but she held her ground.
“What does it want?” she said.
“I have no idea of its intentions,” Samuel replied. “The mbolop I have known have generally been helpful when needed, but rarely have they shown companionable tendencies.”
Lindsey stared into the thing’s eyes, a smile gradually forming on her face. “Is this a real flesh and blood animal, or is it made of Lamotelokhai particles like Mbaiso?”
“I’m afraid I do not know,” Samuel said.
Lindsey fished her mbolop talisman from her pocket and held it out to the creature. “Look, this is you.”
The thing sniffed the talisman. It then sat back on its haunches and began scratching its belly. This was a behavior Quentin had seen before, so he wasn’t surprised when he heard a faint pop as the creature’s skin ruptured. A moment later, the mbolop held out a moist lump of tissue with the obvious intention of giving it to Lindsey. It wanted her to eat it.
Lindsey accepted the lump. She glanced at Quentin. The look on her face was a bit alarming—she wasn’t afraid. Not long ago, she would’ve been scared to death of this. Quentin sidled up to her and looked at the lump. Should he tell her not to eat it? Ev
en though he had never seen anything bad come from such an offering, this particular mbolop was new, and they knew even less about it than they did about Mbaiso. Could the lump being offered help them find Addison?
He said, “Samuel, can you ask what it’s trying to do?”
Samuel signed to the tree kangaroo. It faced him and signed back.
“I believe it intends no harm. I can’t be completely certain, but it seems to believe Lindsey will soon need what it is offering her.”
“I think it’ll be okay,” Lindsey said, half speaking and half laughing. She looked at Quentin. “But if you’re not comfortable with it…”
Quentin was not at all comfortable with it. Yes, it had occurred to him that this might be something to help them find Addison. Or it might provide Lindsey with even more health benefits. Or perhaps it was the next step in whatever plans the Lamotelokhai had for them. But maybe he was wrong and it would kill her. There were too many possibilities to be comfortable with it.
He looked down at the lump of mbolop flesh in her hand. What he saw made him inhale sharply. It was gone. The last bits of it were disappearing through her skin and into her body.
“I guess it’s too late,” she said, staring at her empty palm. She turned to Quentin with a blank look, perhaps still processing what had just happened.
He took her hand in his and studied her face. “It’s going to be okay. It’ll be some way to make you stronger, I’m sure.” But he wasn’t sure.
She squeezed his hand and tried to smile. But then she squeezed his hand harder—far too hard.
“Quentin! I don’t—”
She heaved, like she was going to throw up.
“Are you okay?”
She pushed his hand away and unfolded her legs, trying to get up.
Quentin was on his feet. “Lindsey!”
She let out an incoherent moan and collapsed onto her face.
“Lindsey!” Quentin shook her shoulder. She was unconscious. He rolled her over. Her eyes were half open, staring but not moving. Samuel rushed over to Lindsey’s side as Quentin put his cheek just above her mouth. He felt her breath against his face. He grabbed her wrist, feeling for a pulse. He found it. It was strong and rapid. He shook her again. “Lindsey!”
Profusion Page 9
